<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ceremony by MithrilWren</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22863487">Ceremony</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MithrilWren/pseuds/MithrilWren'>MithrilWren</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Adventure Zone (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(exactly what you'd expect from the Stolen Century), Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Like Most Things I Write, Marriage, Temporary Character Death, this turned out slightly more bittersweet than i intended</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:00:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22863487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MithrilWren/pseuds/MithrilWren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Wedding: You touch adult humanoids willing to be bonded together in marriage. For the next 7 days, each target gains a +2 bonus to AC while they are within 30 feet of each other. A creature can benefit from this rite again only <b>if widowed.</b></i>
</p><p>Over the course of the Stolen Century, Barry and Lup shamelessly exploit a convenient magical loophole.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barry Bluejeans/Lup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ceremony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>49.</strong>
</p><p>Three months into the forty-ninth year, Barry turns to look at Lup. Her face is lit by the cascade of neon flashes from the frogs in the trees above, croaking their many-coloured song, and the air is cold on his tongue, and his hand is in hers as they walk through the night air. She notices him watching. She always does, and her eyes glint in amusement: purple and azure and green and gold.</p><p>“What’re you thinking?”</p><p>He takes a breath and says, “We’re going to get married, aren’t we?”</p><p>He says it not with nervous hesitation, but with the wonder of realization, like a child dazzled at their first snowfall. Lup’s smile is wicked, but the hand around his squeezes gently.</p><p>“Well, duh.”</p><p>And they do. Not that year, because Lup’s not having a wedding on the planet of radioactive frog slime, and Barry likes the evenness of 50 for an anniversary. It’s a nicer number than 49, at any rate. Some just are.</p><p>This world ends quietly. The Hunger comes and the whole crew, safe and sound aboard the Starblaster, watches from the bridge viewport as the neon lights that once sang amidst the blanket of leaves twinkle and then fade. Not even Taako, who’d spend the whole year cursing the frogs for disturbing his sleep, says a word.</p><p>None of them has ever <em>seen</em> silence fall before.</p><p>They all keep quiet, and still, and then they all fade too.</p><p>
  <strong>50.</strong>
</p><p>The fiftieth year is spent planning. Lup tells Taako about their plan, and then Taako teases her about it in front of Magnus, who can’t contain his excitement long enough for damage control and suddenly the whole crew knows that this is the year they’re finally making it official, and they are <em>pumped</em>. Everyone is eager to sink into any strategizing endeavour that doesn’t involve thousands of lives, and preventing the destruction thereof.</p><p>Davenport and Magnus set to work chasing the light of creation on this new world, this fiftieth home – a vast oceania, with towns dotting the edges of the many archipelagos that make up the landmass of the planet. They find it easily enough in the rocky shoals of one of the smaller islands, before the locals can get too attached to the new meteorite in their bay. With that problem squared away, everyone’s attention is back on the wedding, and the first ever IPRE Party Planning Committee is brought to order.</p><p>Taako’s got the food on lock, because of <em>course</em> he does, but he also helps Lup pick a dress from one of the open-aired markets in town: a breezy lilac slip with golden threads that catch the highlights in her hair.</p><p>Lucretia gets all their paperwork in order in case they want to file properly when they get back to their own world or… well, in any case, it’s good to have a record. She’s also unofficially in charge of streamers, because nobody but her and Magnus are sufficiently inoculated towards slimy ocean creatures to spend their evenings weaving strands of shimmery seaweed into party decorations.</p><p>Davenport cozies up enough to the local mayor to score some fine liquor for toasts. He sneaks a few bottles extra into his quarters, for safekeeping.</p><p>Magnus works <em>so hard</em>. He spends every spare minute practicing his carving, getting ready for the main event. At first, he fills Fisher’s tank with progressively more detailed ducks – an attempt to sooth the loneliness of the now-orphaned child, as much as any other purpose. But soon he hides away in a little cave by the coast, only returning to the ship to retrieve more boughs from those he collected from the forests of the previous planet. He refuses to let anyone see what he’s making until it’s absolutely finished.</p><p>Merle… frets.</p><p>“I mean, you could just ask Davenport. I figure, since he’s the captain and all... Isn’t he, you know, vested with the powers that be?”</p><p>“We could,” Lup nods. “Or we could ask you. Like we just did.”</p><p>Merle rubs at the back of his neck, using every inch of height disparity to avoid looking at Lup and Barry’s eyes. “I’m not- are you really sure you want me doing this? <em>Me?”</em></p><p>“Why not you?” Barry asks, genuinely curious.</p><p>“I know I’m like, a cleric...”</p><p><em>“Debatable!”</em> chimes Taako from the other side of the wall, and Merle grits his teeth just a little harder.</p><p>“Not helping, dear brother mine!” Lup calls cheerfully, and shoots a subtle charm behind her back that stands the hair on Barry’s arm on end. Moments later, there’s a thud and a slew of curses, and Lup smiles. “You were saying?”</p><p>“I’ve honestly,” Merle lowers his voice in case Taako is still in earshot. “I’ve never done one of these before. It’s the type of thing they train you for when you’re fully initiated and I never got that far. There’s special words that you’re supposed to use to complete the bonding, and a spell, and I just… I don’t want to screw this up, ok?”</p><p>“Merle,” says Lup, bending at the waist till she’s on eye level with Merle’s flushed face. “There is nothing, <em>nothing</em>, that you could do on my wedding day that would make me happier than to completely fuck it up. Where’s the <em>story</em> in perfection? Where’s the <em>pizzazz</em>. Say the wrong words, blow something up! I live for uncertainty.”</p><p>“Please don’t actually blow anything up if you can help it, though-” Barry interjects.</p><p>“But if you do, I’ll be behind you, 100%. As I push you between me and any sparks that get too close to the bomb-ass dress Taako and I picked out.”</p><p>“Oh yes, I feel much better now,” Merle grumbles, but he also stops arguing, which means they’ve got the priest, which is really, the last thing they needed.</p><p>Lup and Barry get up one morning – a full two months before the Hunger’s arrival – and suddenly, it’s the day. Taako forces eggs and coffee down their throats, prescribing four hundred calories apiece before they’re allowed to get dressed. Merle picks wildflowers and lays them out in matching corsages on the breakfast table before rushing off to resume his muttered practicing. Davenport and Lucretia take them each aside and help them into their outfits, and Barry has never felt more nervous in his life than as he slips on the lightweight suit. Blue, to match the sea, and because he lives to meet expectations.</p><p>And then everyone else is outside, and they’re standing hand in hand, waiting to walk down from the open door of the ship, and Barry turns to look at Lup. “We’re getting married,” he manages to get out through his rapidly closing throat.</p><p>“Sure are, champ,” she says quietly<em>.</em></p><p>It’s funny. He’d always figured he’d be the first one to cry.</p><p>Everyone’s waiting when they finally step through the door. Two thick streamers of seaweed form an aisle from the gangway to where Merle stands beneath Magnus’s project: a giant archway of hewn branches, twisting eagerly in an arc towards the sky. Whatever rough patches and nicks remain in the wood are covered by intertwining flowers, perfectly matched to the garlands around their wrists. On either side of the aisle, their friends sit cross-legged in the white sand: Taako and Davenport on one side, and Lucretia and Magnus on the other. Cradled in Magnus’s lap is Fisher, who hums cheerfully at the sunlight and the joy of living, probably.</p><p>They all end up sitting in the sand, even Merle, and it feels less like a ceremony than a congregation of friends sharing a lazy afternoon, and Barry wouldn’t have it any other way. Merle stumbles his way through his lines, but he manages all right in the end, or at least Barry assumes he does. He’s too busy staring at Lup to listen, committing every second of this perfect day to memory: her loose curls twisting in the breeze, her smudged mascara, her bare feet half-buried under the sand.</p><p>When he tunes back in, it’s to the last words of Merle’s benediction, and his chest swells with warmth and love and- that’s a little too <em>much </em>warmth, actually, and judging by the alarmed look on Lup’s face, she’s feeling the same strange glow in her chest.</p><p>“Well, shit,” Merle breathes. “It actually worked.” Before Barry can ask, he’s patting them both gleefully on the shoulder. “By the power invested in me, <em>apparently</em>, you’re now husband and wife! And also, you get a bonus week of Pan’s blessing – so now’s a good time to get into a boss fight I guess, if you’re itching for one.”</p><p>Barry doesn’t hear that last part too clearly. He’s too busy being shoved into the sand by his wife <em>oh my god oh my god </em>and kissed senseless.</p><p>Merle wasn’t lying about the blessing either. When they’re together, there’s this warmth of surety, like anyone or anything who tried to separate them would need a miracle to succeed. Magnus accidentally hucks a rock in Lup’s direction and it glances off her shoulder like a rubber ball. Barry stubs his toe on the edge of a reef and barely feels the sting. The warmth is strongest when they’re pressed against each other, every inch of them connected, and so they stay like that for three wonderful, magical days – never out of arm’s reach.</p><p>They go swimming, just the two of them, on the fourth day. Barry’s never been so pleased that Taako taught him as he is now. They’re just twirling together, treading water out past the dropoff, and the sky is growing dark when Lup says they might to head in, <em>it’s getting chilly, darling</em>, and then the hail starts to fall.</p><p>At first, there are only little pieces that <em>ping</em> in the water all around them, nipping at their bare shoulders like blackflies as they start to swim back. Then a great chunk of ice slams into the spot Barry’s outstretched hand was reaching towards. All around them a pounding rhythm picks up pace, and Lup starts muttering <em>shit, shit </em>as they double their speed. Through bleary, salt-drenched eyes Barry thinks he sees the shadow of a figure standing on the shore with arms outstretched, but he can’t hear what they’re calling over the wind and the waves and the relentless pounding in his ears. All he can hear is Lup and her desperate muttering as she tries to form a sigil in the air with the hand he isn’t desperately grasping, dragging along. With a cry, she sends a blast of force cascading out in a sphere around them, and for a moment, the roar of the sea and the storm disappear and it’s just the two of them in silence, clinging to each other-</p><p>And then red blooms behind Barry’s eyes and he’s sinking and with every foot he slips the water grows colder, or maybe it’s him that’s gone cold, without her. Or-</p><p>Or-</p><p>He wakes to find Lup already wrapped around him on the Starblaster deck, and the supernatural warmth of Pan’s blessing is gone but she’s safe and he’s alive and the press of her arms is enough for him any day.</p><p>She murmurs hoarsely, words meant only for his ears, and he can tell she’s crying even without seeing her face. “These last months, Barry… god, I missed you so much, you can’t even know-” He squeezes her shoulders and she sighs, before lifting her head and declaring to the room of equally tearful onlookers,</p><p>“This man had the <em>nerve</em> to fucking leave me in the middle of our honeymoon? That’s it, Barry Bluejeans.” Her smile is wet and determined and <em>beautiful</em>.</p><p>“I demand a do-over.”</p><p>
  <strong>51.</strong>
</p><p>For Lup, the announcement is mostly a joke, but then everyone is… kind of on board and she… kind of very much wants them to be.</p><p>She got her perfect fairytale wedding once, and she doesn’t want – doesn’t <em>need </em>– to replace that, but to lose her husband three days after getting him? She’s imagined some pretty bleak futures in her time, and even the worst of them didn’t tip the scale to quite that depressing. They may have all eternity to cycle. Might as well try for the perfect fairytale honeymoon too.</p><p>The second wedding is a more rushed affair. The new planet comes with warring factions and a power struggle and the Light lost somewhere in the fray of muddy battlegrounds, and it takes all of their combined efforts to retrieve the thing before one despot or another can get their hands on it. By the time they do, they’ve got less than a month till the Hunger comes, and most of the crew are footsore and weary from the last push. In fact, Lup’s pretty sure it’s not going to happen at all. She doesn’t bring it up – no use adding one more mission to the pile – but it pulls at parts of her that she’d thought she buried, the memories of lonesome nights spent wondering if there was any happiness in the world that couldn’t be taken away.  </p><p>Against all expectations, the one who brings it up is Merle.</p><p>He comes and knocks at their door and she answers, and waits patiently for him to stop shuffling his feet. Which is to say, she patiently says, “Spit it the fuck out, Merle.”</p><p>“Well, uh, what day were you wantin’ the wedding to be? Now that we’ve got this whole situation under wraps, I thought you’d-”</p><p>He doesn’t get a chance to finish the thought with his head smothered in Lup’s shirt as she pulls him into a tight hug.</p><p>The roles are different now, but maybe they all are too. The years go by quicker, and they all seem a little older with each cycle, though their bodies stay the same. Lup likes to think the change is for the better.</p><p>Davenport finds a copse of trees somehow spared the ravages of war and they set down there, working to clear the area as quickly as possible. He coordinates decorations, not refugees, and his shoulders untense for the first time in six months.</p><p>Magnus apologizes for leaving the arch behind on the last world. The apology is for Barry’s benefit, not Lup’s, because Barry doesn’t need to know that no matter how hard Magnus had worked on it, and how much she wanted to spare his feelings, Lup couldn’t bear the sight of that arch after the night of the storm. She’s not sure what he did with his creation after she told him, but she never saw it again. Maybe it’s lying at the bottom of the same ocean that Barry- nope. That’s not a thought that needs to happen.</p><p>Taako hangs fairy lights from the eaves with his wand, and they all settle in on the newly-swept ground. The world around them couldn’t be more different than a seaside paradise, but they’re all still a congregation of friends. Merle is more comfortable this time around, even injecting a couple jokes into the stuffy liturgy, and though the overwhelming exhilaration of the first wedding is dampened, there’s an ease to the affair that’s new and welcome.  </p><p>Merle places his hands on their shoulders again and says, “By the power invested in me, blah blah, you know the drill-” He startles backwards, grey eyebrows flying up into his hairline as a familiar warmth settles back into Lup’s chest. She cocks her head.</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>He blinks. “It’s just… the spell. The blessing from Pan. It’s a one-time-per-couple deal. You’re not supposed to be able to place it twice on the same people, not unless…”</p><p>“Go on,” she says, as he greens, suddenly cagey.</p><p>“Well, there’s a clause in the case of… if someone is widowed. Then they can get it again. Usually that means with another person though-”</p><p>“I think our whole existence is an affront to the natural order. Let’s not sweat the technicalities.” And she pulls Barry in for a kiss, because he’s her husband, and because she can.</p><p>They barely leave their room for the next week. Lup won’t admit to being afraid of the moment shattering again, and Barry is similarly reticent, and so they talk about everything else in the world except death. Barry learns a bit more about Lup and Taako’s childhood, and he tells her about the cat he rescued from a garbage can near his university, and they read, and make love, and sleep, and wake up to find the other still there. The rest of the crew give their cabin a wide berth.</p><p>It’s not quite a fairytale, but it’s <em>nice</em>. And that’s more than good enough.</p><p>On the evening of the seventh day, Lup is lazily drawing patterns on a sleeping Barry’s shoulder when she feels the warmth in her chest begin to ebb. She digs her nails in and <em>shakes</em>, heart beating too fast all at once because no, this can’t be happening, it can’t, not <em>again</em>, until Barry flips over with a yawn and she regains control of her lungs.</p><p>“What’s up?” he asks, and then his eyes widen, hand going to his own chest. “Guess that’s that.”</p><p>“End of the honeymoon,” she says faintly. Her chest is cold, like swallowed seawater.</p><p>“Time to rejoin the world of the living?”</p><p>“…Nah,” she says, and burrows her head back into his shoulder. His heart thuds against her ear with a gentle pulse, and she slows her breathing to match its rhythm.</p><p>They stay like that, curled into each other, until the silence is replaced by the roar of engines and Davenport’s voice through the intercom. <em>Liftoff</em>. <em>Everyone to their stations</em>. Lup closes her eyes and pulls Barry back down when he tries to get up.</p><p>She’s never been good at following orders.</p><p>
  <strong>58.</strong>
</p><p>“Do you honestly think I would abuse Pan’s divine favour for something this trivial?” Barry, Lup, the entire cosmos sideeyes Merle. “… Yeah, fair enough. Fine,” he sighs, resigned. “Where do you want me?”</p><p>It was actually Barry’s idea. The scientist within him was burning away at the question, and true to form, Lup was just as eager to test out the constraints of any new and interesting magic.</p><p>“We can do it right here, if you want,” Barry says, gesturing down at the galley table they’re all seated at. Well, that he and Merle at seated at – technically, Lup is seated <em>on</em>. From the other side of the room, Lucretia pricks her ears up, obviously interested in what they’re doing, but keeping her nose firmly buried in her book.</p><p>“What, no garlands and twinkles this time around?” Merle says.</p><p>“I’ve had two beautiful wedding days already. I’m ok with this one being quick and dirty,” Lup explains.</p><p>Merle rubs his hands together, mouth twitching nervously beneath his beard. “Well, alright then. I guess we’re doing this… now?”</p><p>“Not getting any younger,” Lup says, which is both so completely true and completely untrue that Barry’s head spins too much to make a joke out of it. “Hey, Luce! Got a sec?”</p><p>Lucretia pads quietly from the other side of the room, her book still propped open in the crook of her arm. “What’s going on?”</p><p>“Getting married again, darling,” Lup says sweetly, and tugs her down till she’s seated in the chair next to Barry. “Want to be our witness?”</p><p>She looks confused a moment, but then slowly nods. “Sure. I’d be honoured.”</p><p>“Great!” Lup reaches down from her perch and ruffles her hair, which only drags a small frown to Lucretia’s face. “Let’s do this!”</p><p>Merle skips straight to the good stuff this time around, getting the blessing out in practically one breath, and Barry readies himself to feel the warmth in his chest, and-</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>“Huh,” all three of them say at once.</p><p>“Maybe Pan’s taking a nap,” Merle says. “Want me to try again?” Lucretia flips a page in her book, settling in for the long haul.</p><p>They do try again, more slowly this time, and Merle repeats every work of the liturgy, and Barry and Lup say their entire vows, and again, nothing.</p><p>“Sorry. Guess I lost my juju.”</p><p>“No, this actually tells us something interesting,” Barry reassures him. “I’d be wondering what happened to us at the end of our cycles, whether we just die and get remade, or if we blink out of reality and reappear. If we actually died, I’d assume the blessing would be nullified. Since it’s not, we can rule out death as what’s happening at the end of each year.”</p><p>“That’s only sort-of comforting, babe,” Lup says, patting his arm.</p><p>“I’m hoping neither of you are planning on dying again, just so you can reap my holy tax benefits.”</p><p>“Never,” Lup promises, and Barry thinks it’s another joke, until he turns and looks at Lup’s face. Her mouth is set in a grim line. The hand on his shoulder tightens, then tightens again. “Not if I can help it.”</p><p>
  <strong>59.</strong>
</p><p>“Barry. Darling. Love of my life.”</p><p>“What?” he says, as Lup pulls him into her arms, back on the deck of the Starblaster once more. This time there are no tears, but she looks a little more faded than he’s ever seen her.</p><p>“Please tell me you didn’t take that crossbow bolt for <em>science.” </em></p><p>He puts a hand over his chest, where only a moment before there had been a bleeding hole.</p><p>He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even answer. He just holds her close.</p><p>
  <strong>78.</strong>
</p><p>They fucked up.</p><p>They fucked up, oh <em>fuck oh f-</em></p><p>Lup tears her eyes away from Magnus’s limp body, sprawled across the obsidian floor mere feet from the Light, his torn shirt cast in hazy red from the streams of magma that cascade from the ceiling. Another rock breaks free and crashes to the floor, and Lup can’t see Taako anymore, she can’t see him she-</p><p>“Lup!” Barry’s hand catches her and drags her back as a spire falls onto the place she was standing, shattering into jagged shrapnel that bites at her calves and thighs. “We have to go!”</p><p>“Taako’s still-”</p><p>“Taako’s <em>gone, </em>Lup!”</p><p>And he is. She saw him take that fateful misstep. She saw where he fell.</p><p>Nobody, not even her, could survive that much fire.</p><p>Then run maybe ten paces before another rock crashes down in front of them and they have to pivot back towards where they came. She can’t see anyone anymore, not Davenport or Lucretia or Merle and why did they all come, <em>why</em> did they get this careless? Yes, the stones were heavy to move but someone should have <em>stayed behind-</em></p><p>Another rock tumbles from the ceiling and smashes into Lup’s arm. She’s flung forward, nearly wrenched from Barry’s grip by the impact, half-sobbing from frustration. They can see the exit from here… but they aren’t going to make it. It’s just too far.</p><p><em>None</em> of them are going to make it.</p><p>Oh, <em>fuck.</em></p><p>They have to try. They have to. Even if everyone else is dead, they have to-</p><p>A hand, smaller than Barry’s, grabs her shirt by the tails and yanks her back towards the wall. She feels Barry moving in the same direction and they both slam into the stone at once, coming face to face with Merle’s sweat-stained face.</p><p>“What-” but he’s already chanting, eyes closed, muttering words too gentle for the horrific sounds of death and destruction as the room collapses around them, and when he finishes Lup’s chest warms, and warms, and she does sob now, because it feels good. It feels like hope, when there was none.</p><p>“Bring us home,” Merle says, and shoves the two of them towards the blackened cavern entrance. “Go!”</p><p>Lup tries to grab his hand but he shoves her away, and she and Barry take off running, bounding around projectiles with catlike grace as they move in sync, like they share the same body. She only looks back when their feet pass the threshold, and she sees Merle still standing there against the wall, watching them with a sad, relieved smile.</p><p>Another rock loosens. She hears the crack as it breaks away, but Lup turns before she can see where it lands.</p><p>
  <strong>82.</strong>
</p><p>The night before the ritual, Merle takes the two of them aside.</p><p>“So,” he says. “You’re really going through with it.”</p><p>“Yeah, Merle,” says Lup. “We really are.”</p><p>He smiles, something tight and curling and frightened. “You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” Lup smiles back. “Didn’t think so, but I had to ask.” He takes out his book, and both Barry and Lup frown in confusion as he flips it open to a familiar page. “One last time, for old time’s sake?”</p><p>They look at each other. “Why?” asks Barry. “Once we’re liches, I’m sure the spell will dissipate. I doubt it transfers between metaphysical bodies.”</p><p>Merle snorts out through his nose, then turns his head away, rubbing one heel of his hand against his cheek, just above the tufts of his white beard. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re probably right.” His voice goes husky near the middle, but he refinds its center before he turns back to them. “But this is what I can do, so if there’s even a chance that’ll it’ll help…”</p><p>“Then we’ll take it,” Lup says, grabbing Merle’s hand before he can close the book. “Shit. Thank you.”</p><p>“Thanks for what? I haven’t done nothing yet.”</p><p>“For everything.” She swallows. “For <em>everything. </em>And if this doesn’t work-”</p><p>“Lup-“ Barry warns.</p><p>“If this <em>doesn’t work,” </em>Lup continues. “I just need you to know that. Alright? You did everything you could.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Merle laughs. “Of course it’s going to work. I’ve done it five times now. Have a little more faith.” He looks at Lup, and she looks at him, and their shared gaze is warm, and understanding. “So don’t you worry, I’m going to take good care of both of you. That’s my job.”</p><p>“Thanks, Merle,” Barry says, echoing loops words, and Merle’s wobbling tone.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do this.” He takes both their hands and places them on top of the book. “By the powers vested in me…”</p><p>Merle’s words fade out as Barry looks at Lup. Her brilliant eyes meet his, and even as the warmth swells, the look they share is one of farewell.</p><p>No matter what happens tomorrow, this’ll be the last time they share this.</p><p>But no matter what happens, they’re going to be together.</p><p>Come hell or high water, he’s never going to leave her alone again.</p><p>
  <strong>~&amp;$(No DATE given@(*#</strong>
</p><p>It’s cold up here, in the sky.</p><p>Barry wraps his jacket around Lup’s shoulders, and she leans in under his arm, swinging her legs to keep warm, or just to keep moving. Her bare feet flicker as the lights below pass by – a sparkling metropolis by the sea, and they can see it all from their perch on the last metal outcropping of the base: Neverwinter, in all its evening glory. After everything, impossibly, safe and sound.</p><p>Lup slides a little farther, sticking her big toe out as far as she can reach it, and suddenly the entire foot becomes buoyant, like it weighs nothing at all. Lup giggles at the sudden loss of gravity, and Barry redoubles his grip on the fluttering pages in his lap.</p><p>It figures, that Lucretia would have still had these. If there’s one thing she takes seriously, it’s her paperwork.</p><p>“What do’ya think?” Lup says. “If I spit, do you think it would hit someone, or would it just burn up in the atmosphere?” Before he gets a chance to answer, she hocks a loogie and lets it fly. They both watch the orb of spit vanish into the frosty air.</p><p>“It’s more likely that it’ll find its way back around the moon and land on someone up here.”</p><p>“Even better.” Lup grins, and Barry pulls her in all the tighter.</p><p>He’s missed this.</p><p>He’s missed so much, and this most of all.</p><p>“This feels silly,” he admits, shuffling through the papers. “I don’t even know why Lucretia wanted them in the first place. It’s not like we even officially <em>exist </em>anymore. Nobody’s going to come checking to see if our personnel records are up to date.”</p><p>“Yeah, but what Luce wants, Luce gets,” and there’s a bite to the words that wasn’t there before, and the air gets a little colder, and he shivers for the both of them.</p><p>Even with so many things mended, there are some they can’t undo.</p><p>Still, Lup’s voice softens as she takes the first page and holds it up to the light of the second moon, the real moon. “You sure you don’t want one last ceremony? Just for old times’ sake?”</p><p>He chuckles, imagining Merle’s face if they asked. “I’m good. All I want is you, at my side, forever and always.”</p><p>“That’s some corny shit, Bluejeans.” He shrugs, and she tucks her feet back up under her. “But you know I love it.” She puts the page back down onto the pile and pulls a pen out from behind her ear, then passes it to Barry. “So, what do you say? Will you make me an honest woman, <em>officially?”</em></p><p>In every lifetime, in every moment, past and present, his answer has never changed.</p><p>“Yes. I will.”</p><p>He takes the pen and scribbles his name down on the dotted line, then passes the pen back. Lup adds her own signature to the other, and they both sit back, staring at the blocky letters of script at the top of the page.</p><p>
  <em>Certificate of Marriage</em>
</p><p>No ceremony, no warmth, no mystical connection. They set the papers aside and kiss under the lights from above and below, and it’s only them, and that’s plenty. That’s all they need to be.</p><p>Forever and always, connected.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I actually started this story all the way back in 2018, but it kept getting pre-empted by other work. It was so nice to finally come back and finish it properly!</p><p>Find me at <a href="https://mithrilwren.tumblr.com">mithrilwren</a> on Tumblr!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>